Modern vs Pre-Modern Sensemaking Strikes Again
The recent back-and-forth between Gavin Ortlund and Jonathan Pageau on the question of “who shall be saved” is worth highlighting, as it shows how differently Protestant and Orthodox thinkers make sense of things at the most fundamental level. (This is something I’ve written about before here and here).
Gavin Ortlund recently posted a video in which he made the case that the Orthodox position on the question of “who shall be saved” has changed substantially. He cites authoritative Orthodox sources throughout the centuries which state in rigid terms that there is no salvation outside the Orthodox Church. He contrasts that with a commonly heard position among the Orthodox today that, in Orthodoxy, we know where the Church is, but we don’t know where it isn’t. In other words, Orthodox teachers today seem to admit that one can find salvation outside of Orthodoxy.
Ortlund’s point is that, essentially, the sort of benevolent ambiguity that we hear from Orthodox teachers today is a significant shift from the rigid historical position of Orthodoxy, which can be established by proof texts in canons and encyclicals. This kind of substantive change would be problematic for the Orthodox Church, given its claims of being rooted and unchanging in its historical tradition.
Jonathan Pageau’s response to this video focuses on how the different views of salvation itself between Protestant and Orthodox account for much of Ortlund’s misunderstanding. The protestant view of salvation focuses on who will be counted “not guilty” at the final judgment of God. Orthodoxy, by contrast, understands salvation as theosis. It is not a question of “guilt” but a question of who can participate in the qualities and works of God, not only in eternity, but starting here and now in our present life.
Theosis is the process of healing at the highest level, to be restored in the end to our unfallen state, or even beyond it. Just as one who seeks physical healing should go to a hospital, one who seeks the complete healing of theosis should look for the place on Earth that God has established for the purpose of restoring humanity and bringing it back into communion with Him. This is the role of the flesh-and-blood Church that Christ established by his Apostles. The Orthodox Church is the heir to this tradition and the heir to this role in God’s redeeming work.
Both sides sound compelling on their face. I believe that the fundamental difference between the two is that Ortlund has what I call a boundary-focused way of approaching the question, while Pageau has a center-focused way. Here’s what I mean by that:
When Ortlund is trying to answer the question “who shall be saved?”, he is looking for a definitional answer that draws a boundary line that perfectly bisects humanity into the “saved” and “unsaved” camps. Listening to protestants speak, you become immediately aware of their preoccupation with this boundary line. Everything is always about “getting saved” – i.e. crossing that abstract, theoretical boundary into salvation. Thus, for protestants, whoever definitionally crosses this boundary (usually understood as “believing” in Jesus as their savior) is part of the True Church. There may be some who attend their local church every week who don’t meet this definition. Of these protestants would say that, while someone may be a part of the “visible” church (by sitting in the pews each week), they are not necessarily part of the “invisible” church (the truly saved).
By answering the question of who shall be saved in this definitional and theoretical way, Ortlund, and protestants generally, are thinking in a way that could be described as modern left-brained analysis. This way of sensemaking relies on creating boundaries that define categories. Anything that meets the definition for Category A must necessarily be in Category A. Anything that doesn’t, isn’t.
This sort of binary thinking is well-suited to quantitative questions of math and science. The process is computational, clear, and precise, and it creates answers that are very black-and-white. It’s very difficult (or exasperating) to disagree with people who think in this way. Complete confidence in the rationality of their conclusions is a feature of left-brained sensemaking (even when those conclusions are demonstrably wrong).1
By contrast, Pageau approaches the question of salvation in a center-focused paradigm. In other words, he and other Orthodox teachers are not trying to draw a theoretical line between the saved and the unsaved. Especially when it comes to the ultimate judgment of God, they would say that, not only is defining such a theoretical line impossible for a human, more importantly it’s none of our business.
So when Orthodox thinkers ask the question of who shall be saved, they are not trying to figure out how someone can get on the good side of a boundary line. They are asking how someone can approach as nearly as possible to the center of what it means to be human. They are not trying to hop a fence into paradise, they are trying to ascend to the top of the Mountain of God.
Pageau’s hospital illustration is apt. If you are suffering from a disease and you’re asking me how to be healed, I’m going to tell you to go to the hospital. Is it possible to be healed outside of a hospital? Maybe, sure, I don’t know (why are you even asking that question?? Get to the hospital!) But if you’re asking me I’m going to tell you to go to a hospital. It would be irresponsible of me to give any other answer.
Another helpful image is ascending a mountain. The purpose is to get to the top, to be united with God. We may be at the bottom, looking at several different trailheads. But for an Orthodox teacher, the trailhead of the Orthodox Church is the one that leads to the top. That is the trail we have received by our Tradition going all the way back to the Apostles. It’s reliability is constantly attested to by the saints. It’s the trail that we in the Church have been using for millennia, and the one that continues to heal broken people today.
Is it possible to reach the top if you leave the Blessed Path? This question is theoretical, and requires some sort of abstract answer that only God can supply. This is the kind of question that Gavin Ortlund would like to answer.
But it is a question that it seems Orthodox teachers avoid. It is enough for them that the way up the mountain is perilous, and the cost of failure incalculable. If you’re asking an Orthodox authority whether it’s fine if you leave the Path, it would be irresponsible for them to say anything other than “No!”
This is the best way to understand the rigid exclusivism of Orthodox authorities past and present. When they urge all to come into the fold of the Orthodox Church, to stay on the Blessed Path, they are not doing so to answer a theoretical question of salvation. They are using their vested authority care for the souls of those entrusted to them. They don’t care how harsh the advice sounds to modern sensibilities, it is more important advise with all urgency: Don’t leave the Path!
So when Orthodox teachers say things like “we know where the Church is, but not where it isn’t,” they are trying to bridge a gap between the boundary-focused and center-focused ways of thinking. Theoretically, sure, it may be possible to be saved without being a member of an Orthodox Church. From my experience, Orthodox people find these academic questions uninteresting at best, and a serious temptation to pride at worst. But if you’re broken and hurting, and you want to be healed, the response of any Orthodox person would be an invitation to come to the place where we know the Church is. The place where there is healing.
Iain McGilchrist mentions several anecdotes in his work of patients who, because of damage to the right hemisphere of their brain, are unable to use their left arm. Because of that damage they are also excessively reliant on their left-hemisphere for how they understand things. When you point out to the patient that they are unable to use their left arm, they insist that that arm — the one next to them — doesn’t belong to them. If you point out that it’s clearly attached to their body at the shoulder, they continue to insist that it’s not their arm, and that somebody must have attached a very convincing false arm to their body.